Heaven
by Belliadonna
Summary: Having known infinity for most of her life, Rosalina is pretty sure that there is nothing beyond the realm of space. A simple visit from a stranger soon changes that. An ode to foodies and romantics everywhere.


Short (maybe two or three?)shot to satisfy the ravenous fangirl in me.

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><p><strong>Heaven<strong>

_**And when love speaks, the voice of the gods, **_

_**Make heaven drowsy with their harmony.**_

_**-W. Shakespeare**_

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><p>"Thank you so much for the cakes, Miss Rosalina. I didn't know you could bake as well! Now that you're here, you and Miss Peach can make twice the dessert!" Pit happily fluttered, in his arms various sweets and cakes bounced along with angel's eager movements.<p>

"It's nothing, Pit. I enjoy baking, and I do it a lot, since the Lumas cannot get enough of my confections." The blue princess smiled as she finished tying off one of the little bags of cookies and sweets she has prepared for everyone as a welcoming treat. Pit was helping her give them out to the other Smashers who were busy shuffling to their new rooms in the newly-renovated Mansion.

"Ma'am, I think 'enjoy' is an understatement. I mean look at this spread! I have never, ever, ever seen so many delicious sweets in one place! I wonder if Lady Palutena would let me have a few before dinner…"

"You're free to taste any of them, Pit. I won't tell on you." Rosalina winked at him. "But make sure to save some for the others!"

"Alright! I wonder what this is?" Pit wasted no time assessing the various confections before him: petit fours of all shapes and colours, rainbow macaroons, snow-ball cakes, decorated cookies and cream puffs piled high. Pit could only sigh in delight as he tried each treat. The princess smiled, and continued with her work. After a few blissful seconds of silence, Rosalina sighed and gave Pit another treat bag.

'…Alright, that takes care of Jigglypuff's share. Now, on to…" She looked at a list of names in front of her. "Ness's." The princess declared as she grabbed a couple of macaroons and meringues from the cooling tray. As she grabbed the sugar cookies, she noticed a sudden drop in her companion's joyous aura. Had it been someone else, she would not have been so alarmed. Since it even made the ever-peppy Pit droop, Rosalina felt herself worry a bit more than necessary.

"Ah, princess, I've had so many of your delicious sweets here, is it okay if I give my share to Ness? He could use a couple extra pieces of sweets." Pit tried to sound as cheerful as he was a few seconds before, but to no avail. Rosalina, noticing the change, tilted her face slightly and quietly asked Pit what the matter was, not wanting to pry. The angel lowered his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm not at liberty to say, but he's going through a rough patch right now, and I thought maybe a few bursts of heaven on his tongue might help ease the pain."

Nodding understandingly, she put in a few extra macaroons and told the angel that he could still keep his treats.

That was all it took to make the angel happy again.

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><p>Rosalina loved baking and according to the groans of pleasure (or scoffs of approval), the entire house loved her treats as well. However, cleaning up the aftermath in the kitchen was the unavoidable consequence of her steamy affairs with baking. As a princess, she needed to present a cool, calm façade in front of fellow beings. This does not extend to her cooking. When she cooks, she cooks like a maniac: tea towels strewn over piles of plates covered in dough and frosting, towering over an equally-as-impressive pile of rubbish: fruit peels, sugar packets, flour bags, all tall and menacing to the little Lumas assigned cleaning duty that day. The sink was filled with terrifying grime threatening to rear and attack, half-flour, half egg white in nature. The marble floor was white with sugar and flour and by the way it was strewn all over the room, it was like the floating spacecraft had an infinite supply of baking materials.<p>

The Mansion's kitchen was of no exception. It looked like one of Link's Bomb Flowers went off in the place. Everything was ridiculously painted with white goo, and the baking trays that were once full of goodies, were lying resolute on the counter, awaiting the seemingly-far-away hour of The Cleaning. Rosalina sighed, wishing that she had assistance, considering the magnitude of the mess she made. She even tried to rouse Pit to come to the kitchen with her mind, but it didn't really work, since she had no real psychic power within her noggin. Just a ridiculously wise intergalactic sovereign covered in egg and flour.

Sighing again, she grabbed a rag and began to wipe down the counters.

In the silence of kitchen, most of the Smashers preparing for dinner, her mind wandered to Ness. She has only seen the boy once today, standing behind Pit as he gave him his welcome-back treat. She has never seen someone so young, seem so old. He made no show of hiding his sadness from the public, and frankly, Rosalina admired him for that. If only she knew what made his plum eyes so sad.

A gentle breeze came in from an open window, which Rosalina admits she had not noticed before, and roused her from her thoughts. It was a breathtaking view. The sun had set and the beautiful hum of twilight began. The morning glories have retired and closed their petals for the night, making way for the Casablanca lilies, perfuming the air with the most beautiful smell. Looking up, she saw stars above her, glistening like sugar scattered across the infinite darkness. It was a strange feeling, seeing the stars like this, so small and so unassuming, one could mistake them for something insignificant. However, when one really sees them as they are, big spheres of warmth and life, there is something so pretty, so awe-inspiring about those unassuming dots of light, significant enough to leave a black hole where they used to be when they fade.

It was utterly enchanting and humbling.

Suddenly aware of a presence, she turned around, ready to apologise for terrorising the kitchen with her gung-ho style of baking. She saw was a little boy, about her shoulder height, with sparkling blue eyes and flaxen hair, his complexion free of imperfection save for a light sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks which were hauntingly pale in the artificial light of the kitchen. _A smasher, perhaps? _Rosalina thought. He wasn't there earlier in the welcoming tea party, but he could have arrived late. Not everyone had the luxury of having a portal in their realm, since you could only poke so many holes through the space-time-continuum until you seriously mess something up. Rosalina, curious of who this stranger was, addressed him kindly.

"Little one, may I ask you of your name?" The princess asked, the mask of formality on her face poised perfectly.

"I'm Lucas." His voice was small like he was, quiet and calm. "Miss, I don't have much time. I'd like to ask you something." There was something raw in the young boy's voice, something beautifully broken, like the shards of a beloved porcelain doll. It broke her heart to hear that voice, so meltingly soft and sweet, so laced with hurt and sorrow.

"I will do what I can. Speak, child."

"I'd like for you to teach me how to bake."

"You'd like me…to teach you how to bake…?" Rosalina repeated, each word confounding her more. No one has ever, ever asked her to teach them anything—which is not exactly difficult considering she lived with a whole bunch of sentient stars, however this was a bit bizarre for her, since Peach, master pâtissière and princess extraordinaire, practically has her face stamped on all the cakes available in the kingdom. The pretty pink princess practically has a monopoly on the cake business, and since Lucas was even allowed entrance to the mansion (and thus, could have just as easily asked the other princess to teach him), it was beyond her why he was asking Rosalina—princess shut in, who preferred the decency of books to earthlings, the beauty of a riding comet as it flies by her celestial home, and the happiness of her children. The only one time that she acts like the preppy, more sociable princess was when she bakes her treats.

The beautiful thing about food—good food—is that it brings all sorts of people regardless of race, era, gender, and it brings them together, from all walks of life. It heals and saves, and warms them right up.

Food is peace, and by looking at the boy, eyes wrought with worry, face crinkling in worry and sadness, Rosalina decided that he could probably use some happiness too.

"Sure. Around this time?"


End file.
